
Glass 

Book i_ 






/ A 

SKETCH 



THE LIFE, 

LAST SICKNESS, AND DEATH, 

OP 

MBS. MJ1BF JJ13STE GROSVENOR 

LEFT AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE 

LATE HON. THOMAS P. GROSVENOR. 



And I heard a voice from Heaven, saying unto me, write, 
Vom henceforth blessed are the dead who die in the Lord; even 
;o saith the Spirit; for they rest from their labours, and their 
works do follow them. Rev. 14—13. 



BALTIMORE: 

PUBLISHED BY CO ALE AND MAXWELL 

Wm. JVooddy, Printer. ' ; 

2817. 






68886 



DISTRICT OF MARYLAND, si 

BE IT REMEMBERED, that on this twelfth day 
of June, in the forty -first year of the Independence of 
the United States of America, Edward J. Coale and 
Nathaniel G. Maxwell of the said district, have depo- 
sited in this office, the title of a Book, the right 
whereof they claim as proprietors, in the words fol- 
lowing, to wit: 

"A Sketch of the Life last sickness and death of 
"Mrs. Mary Jane Grosvenor, left among the papers 
of the late hon. Thomas P. Grosvenor." 

In conformity to an act of the Congress of the Uni- 
ted States, entitled "An act for the encouragement of 
learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts and 
Books to the Authors and proprietors of such, during 
the times therein mentioned: 5 ' and also to the act, 
entitled, "An act supplementary to the act, entitled 
an act for the encouragement of learning, by secur- 
ing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books to the au- 
thors and proprietors of such copies during the times 
the rein mentioned, and extending the benefits there- 
vu to the arts of de signing, engraving and etching 
historical and other prints. 5 " 

PHILIP MOORE, 
^ r ; Clerk District Maryland, 



INTRODUCTION, 

The following correspondence will show 
the manner in which the editor became pos- 
sessed of the manuscript of the following 
work, and the views and expectations which 
have induced its publication. The first letter 
was addressed to the editor, by the person 
who committed it to his charge; the second is 
the letter of the editor, to the Right Revd. 
Bishop Kemp, and the third, his reply. 

Should it be supposed by any, that a piece 
of this character, w r ritten under feelings and 
impressions produced by the peculiar situation 
of Mr. Grosvenor, should never have seen the 
public eye; the editor has this apology to of- 
fer, that in the opinion of many friends 
whose judgment he highly respected, the pub- 
lication was calculated to be extremely use- 
faL 



Juse, % isir 



MY DEAR SIR, 



The interesting and instructive 
manuscript, herewith sent, was found aiming 
the papers of our dear deceased friend, Gros 
venor, left by hirn in the office of his friend, 
Mr. Llvermore. In his last illness, he gave 
it to the friend in wham there is ever y rea- 
son to believe lie most confided, for the 
last five years of his useful life. Having anx- 
iously sought after, and found the paper, where 
he was directed to look for it, that friend has pe- 
rused and re-perused it again and again, with 
feelings he has not attempted to describe^ In 
the fullest persuasion, that its publication will 
promote the cause of religion generally, and 
advance the interest of the church in this 
state particularly, where our decease 



VI 



was so generally known and universally be- 
loved, I must beg the favour of you to place 
it in the hands of our good Bishop for exami- 
nation, and to be guided altogether by his 
judgment in the nnal disposal of it. 

As there is no copy, and the owner values 
this production more than all the speeches and 
other publick and private writings which may 
be found among Mr. Grosvenor's papers, let 
me beg of you to be careful of the original, 
and to return it safe, if the "excellent Prelate" 
therein named, should decide against its pub- 
lication, Believe me to be 

Your friend sincerely. 



Mr. C- 



Ex. Revd. Sir, 

The enclosed manuscript, from the pen 
of our late most estimable friend, the horn Mr. 






vn 



Grosvenor, you will find to be a brief sketch of 
the life, last illness and death of his amiable and 
pious consort. He presented it to a friend, a 
few days before his death; and it has been plac- 
ed in my hands, with permission to publish it, 
should it meet your approbation; indeed if this 
.condition had not been enjoined, I cherish the 
memory of both Mr. Grosvenor, and his lady, 
in such affectionate regard, that I would not 
trust my own judgment on a subject so deli- 
cate and interesting, and feel happy in having 
it in my power to be advised by you, who 
well knew them, and had an intimate know- 
ledge of their high attainments in mental and 
christian acquirement. Some time before the 
death of Mr. Grosvenor, he had read much 
of Christian Theology, and particularly on the 
divinity of our Lord; had it pleased God to 
have prolonged his life, he would doubtless 
have become one of the most zealous, able and 



distinguished advocates in the cause of our 
Holy religion. The manuscript exhibits the 
character of his mind on this subject, and it 
may have an important, impressive and salu- 
tary effect on those who read it. Perhaps with 
some it may tend to lessen the great repu- 
tation Mr. Grosvenor acquired by his pre- 
eminent talents as a statesman; but, whether 
such detraction merits your consideration, you 
will decide. I shall be thankful to you, for 
your answer, on the subject as early as yeu can 
feonvenieutly favor me with it. 

With perfect respect,. 
I ftp, Rt. Revd. Sir, 
Your much obliged. 
And obedient servant, 

Bt.Sev.St.Mmp. 



IX 



Dear Sir, 

I HAVE perused the sketch of the life 
of Mrs. Grosvenor, with great gratification; and 
I am persuaded, that it cannot be read without 
warming the heart and improving the best 
qualities of the soul. 

It certainly will be viewed as a rare, and 
highly interesting piece. An affectionate hus- 
band delineating the character of a beloved 
wife, tracing her religious progress through a 
series of disease, rapidly advancing towards 
dissolution; marking her struggles to overcome 
the world and all its vanities; treasuring up 
every pious expression; and distinguishing the 
various steps by which she advanced to that 
confidence and love, which cast out fear; this is 
a work in which no heart can fail to take a 
deep concern. Here is portrayed, with a 
masterly hand, the influence of religion and 



the triumph of faith; here is exhibited that 
elevation of soul, which resignation to the will 
of God, and confidence in the atonement of a 
Redeemer, alone can beget. 

When we viewed Mr. Grosvenor, as a man 
of talents, he secured our esteem. When we 
contemplated him as a distinguished states- 
man, standing in the foremost rank of politi- 
cians, he excited our admiration. But now when 
we follow him to retirement, and see the effu- 
sions of his heart, after the loss of a beloved 
wife; when we perceive the tenderest sensi- 
bilities mingling with a high degree of re- 
ligious affection; he gains our love, his 
character acquires a new cast, and becomes 
highly interesting; it strengthens the senti- 
ment, that without religion no character can be 
complete, nor any human being altogether 
happy. 



Whatever allowances, some may deem ne- 
cessary to be made, for the glow of a lively 
fancy, in the situation of Mr. Grosvenor, when 
the following work was written; yet to the sub- 
stantial correctness of the descriptions, I can 
bear testimony. I administered to Mrs. Grosve- 
nor, most of the ordinances of our holy religion, 
I confirmed her, I married her, I admitted her to 
the Lord's Supper, and I attended her in her 
last illness. She possessed a mind, clear and 
capacious, a heart highly susceptible of re- 
ligious impressions. In all our conversations 
during her last and painful sickness, she marJ- 
fested correct views of the plan of salvation, 
and an implicit reliance upon the blood of 
Christ for pardon and happiness. While I 
could at first perceive the struggles of her 
mind to overcome the world, and yeild up her- 
self to Godj before the scene closed, every 



Xll 



thing of the kind disappeared, and she was tru- 
ly resigned and tranquil. 

In this sketch, the young lady will see, how 
transitory and evanescent all temporal amuse- 
ments, and enjoyments are! how soon the 
brightest prospects may be obscured! and that 
in religion, and in religion alone she can find 
safety and consolation! 

I am, &c. 
Mr. C . J AS. KEMP, 



SKETCH 

OF 

THE LIFE, 

Last Sickness, and Death of 
MRS. MARY JJJYE GROSVENOB. 



It has pleased the Almighty Father to re- 
move from this world, in the morning of her 
life, this young and lovely woman. 

"The ways of the Almighty are past find- 
ing out."— 

"As a man chasteneth his son, so the Lord 
"our God chasteneth us, that he may humble 
"us and prove us, to do us good at our latter 
"end." 

On our knees, then, let us devoutly kiss 
the hand that presses us down, saying, "The 

B 



14 

Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away; 
blessed be the name of the Lord." 

Yet on her interesting life, on the pious 
resignation which accompanied her pro- 
tracted sickness, on the firm hope, and even 
triumphant Christian confidence, with which 
she met the King of Tcrrours, the mind lin- 
gers with melancholy delight, mingled with 
emotions of the keenest anguish for her loss. 
A short sketch of that life, that sickness, and 
that death, may solace her surviving friends 
and do justice to her memory — thou God of 
all Grace, vouchsafe that the example here dis- 
played may encourage the strong in faith t# 
persevere, may sustain the weak in a course 
of piety, and lure the infidel from his hope- 
less wanderings to the path of faith, hope, 
and happiness which the religion of Christ 
points out to the miserable children of mor- 
tality! 



1? 

Mrs. Grosvenor was the only daughter of 
the late Alexander C. Hanson, Esq. Chancel- 
lor of Maryland. — During her very infan- 
cy he began to form her mind on the 
purest model, to enrich it with various litera- 
ture; and to plant deeply and durably there- 
in the seeds of virtue and morality. — -In this 
endearing work he was powerfully assisted 
by her mother, a woman of rare excellence-* 
To those who knew the late chancellor and 
his lady, his diversified talents and excel- 
lent principles, her virtuous mind, and sound 
judgment, it is not necessary to say that 
a mind like that of Mrs* Grosvenor, docile, 
brilliant and strong, under their skilful cul- 
ture, was reared rapidly to maturity™ And 
happy for her was this early and rapid pro- 
gress in every mental endowment.-^For at 
the age of fifteen began the real sorrows of 
her life— she lest her father.— In the ensuing. 



16 

year her mother, (on whom now rested all 
her remaining hopes of earthly happiness) 
broken hearted, followed her husband to the 
tomb. 

Of the state of Mrs. Grosvenor's mind, up to 
this period, of her views of religion, of her par- 
ticular studies, and indeed of her general 
pursuits, I have but a very imperfect know- 
ledge—Certainly she had read extensively 
and advantageously; and under the direction 
of her father, had attempted branches of lite- 
rature not frequently cultivated or deemed 
appropriate to her sex — Certainly her life 
must have been correct, and her disposition 
affectionate, for she was esteemed and loved 
till her death by the friends of her early 
years. 

Now at the age of sixteen she was left in 
the City of Baltimore, a new and strange 
abode, without friends and guides of her own 



17 

sex, without property, without eVen common 
acquaintance, a young, refined and artless 
girl to the sole care of her two brothers— 
Neither of them had attained the age of 
twenty-ane years — Baltimore was the focus 
irf pleasure and of business— They were 
ijoung and gay, engaged in the bustle of life, 
lend of its pleasures, immersed in its busi- 
ness, and intent on building up their own for- 
tunes, which they were left to perform with 
their own hands—However kindly disposed, 
and most kindly disposed they certainly were, 
however affectionately they loved" her, and 
most affectionately they did love her, and 
however willing to cherish and console her, it 
cannot be conceived, that thus situated and 
engaged in such constant scenes, they could 
become either judicious consolers, or appro- 
priate guides, to her young mind, through the 
flaaz^s of this wicked world—For a long pe- 



is 

riod she had few, if any, female associates ol 
her own age, with whom her soul could hold 
friendly communion — Perhaps it was fortu- 
nate for her that she was doomed for a season 
to solitary affliction — Perhaps it was the kind- 
ness of her God which compelled her thus early 
to serious reflection — to resort to her own 
mind for support— to fly to Him for succour 
and consolation — We may indulge the belief, 
that in this solitary and sorrowful period, %vere 
sown those seeds of Grace, which though bu- 
ried for a season, sprouted forth, and in after 
years flourished like the green bay tree, and 
finally produced the richest fruits of humility, 
charity, and vital piety. 

The tenor of her life for the five or six suc- 
ceeding years, is not particularly known to 
me — She certainly was disposed to solemn 
contemplation — she was constant in the 
publick worship of God, according to the 



A9 

forms of the Church to which she belonged. — ■ 
She continued to reside with the one or the 
other of her brothers in Baltimore— she at 
length mingled in the society of her sex— 
and no doubt was immersed in those plea- 
sures which eminently pertains to that so- 
ciety in the place of her residence. 

I have heard her regret this period of her 

is thrown away.— For if she did not live 
y.iihout God in the world, the world and 
its frivolous amusements stole too much of 

time from more solid pursuits and ration- 
al and religious studies.— Gay, innocent and 
animated, fond of polite amusements, and 

ished by a society, in which, by her bril- 
liant mind and accomplishments, she was well 
qualified to move, it is not wonderful that she 
yielded to its impulse, and swam rapidly 
along the current of fashionable pleasure. 
But blessed be God; die was not suffered to be 



20 

carried on to the ocean of eternity, thoughtless, 
secure and unprepared for the interminable 
voyage. 

It was in this period of her life that she 
met those excellent friends of her own sex 
with whom she formed those affectionate inti- 
macies which continued unbroken and undi- 
minished to the hour of her death. 

I have heard her express the liveliest gra- 
titude toward Mrs. Home, of Baltimore, who 
early after the loss of her mother, when she 
was young and lovely, and almost without a 
protector of her own sex, sought her out in 
her retirement, took her kindly by the hand 1 
and directed and supported her trembling step?* 
May God reward her disinterested kindness! 

Miss Sophia Rogers, Mrs. Didier, Miss Di- 
dier, Mrs. Mary Prtrad, Mrs. Rebecca Bmitfc. 
Mrs. Wether strand, and Miss Margaret Smith, 
of Philadelphia, and Miss Murray of West ri- 



I 



;2i 

ver, she loved with an ardent and rational af- 
fection. 

For Mrs. Murray of West river, Mrs. Ro- 
gers of Greenwood, and Mrs. Smith of Balti- 
more, who expired a few weeks before her- 
self, she always professed and felt the warm 
affection of a daughter. 

Mrs. Caroline Donaldson was a chosen 
friend of her bosom; one whom her whole heart 
loved, and her whole judgment approved. 

Her cousin Mrs. Magruder, of Annapolis. 
was an early, dear and constant friend. 

Her two sisters, the wives of her brothers, 
held the place in her heart of sisters indeed — 
Mrs. Rebecca Hanson, at whose house her last 
sickness commenced, evinced her affection, her 
sisterly affection, by all that the kindest at- 
tention, vigilance and sympathy could bestow. 
And Mrs. Priscilla Hanson, to whose house 
she was removed early in her sickness, and 



there continued till her death, watched over 
her sick bed with more than sisterly tender- 
ness, was constantly her soother and comfor- 
ter, and daily and nightly assuaged her pains^ 
by the most endearing kindness and sympa- 
thy.-— While both hanging over her dying bed* 
comforted her in her last agonies, and wept 
her final departure and followed her lifeless re- 
mains to the tomb of her fathers. 

But above all, her cousin Mrs. Alexander, of 
Baltimore, was one whom she most loved— 
she, and she alone, could fill that "aching 
void" in her heart, produced by the death of 
her mother— she was the beautiful model, upon 
which Mrs. Grosvenor strove to form her char* 
acter as a woman and a Christian. — And she 
was at once the affectionate friend of her bo* 
som, the maternal monitor of her life, her 
friend, her pattern, and her guide. 



^3 

Surely no time could be thrown away m 
which the friendship and affection of such 
women were firmly and durably obtained* 

About the age of twenty-two her mind be- 
came more seriously impressed by the great 
truths of religion, and she began solemnly t& 
inquire what she should do to be saved. I am 
not positive that any particular events in her 
life produced this important improvement in 
the solemnity of her mind — but I believe the 
death of a dear and pious friend, Miss Lydia 
Smith, whose sickness and sufferings were 
prototypes of her own; by whose bedside 
she constantly watched, during a protracted 
period of suffering and decay, and whose last 
moments she helped to cheer and console, to- 
gether with the pious example and conversa- 
tion of Mrs. Alexander, with whom she was 
intimate and whom she loved with an affec- 
tion, elevated and ardent* combined to revive 



M 

her early impressions of religion, and te rouse 
her mind to the vast importance of immediate 
preparation for death and eternity. 

This important change in her mind, had, 
however, for a considerable time, but little 
visible influence upon her life and actions. 

It was not evidenced by any particularly 
grave deportment; nor by any apparent gloom 
or despondency; nor hj abandoning the cheer- 
ful pleasures of society; nor yet by withdraw- 
ing from those polite amusements which are 
thought by the world to be appropriate to her 
age and sex. But her leisure hours were de- 
voted to serious studies— I believe, from her 
infancy, she had never failed to approach the 
throne of Grace both morning and evening, — 
But now, she wrestled with her God more 
earnestly— explored the original corruptions 
of her own heart more vigilantly—searched 
the book of life more frequently, and became 



•25 

daily more importunate with her God to guide 
her steps in the right way. 

Ill this situation she was when the writer 
of this sketch became acquainted with her in 
the summer of 1813 — she then appeared to 
the world sociable and cheerful, and even gay, 
But a nice observer could then discover in 
her countenance a deep shade of solemn re- 
flection, and in her conduct a disposition bent 
on serious tilings, a soul in pursuit of vast 
and eternal objects. 

Down to the winter of one thousand eight 
hundred and fifteen, she continued in this 
state of mind, making constant efforts to ab- 
stract her inclinations from temporal vanities, 
and to devote herself to the service of her 
Maker — "She was not weary in well doing — 
"she fainted not, and in due season she reap- 
ed a full reward." Gradually she became en- 
lightened in the great truths of Christianity; 



26 

gradually, she received the illuminations of 
Divine Grace; gradually, was her soul filled 
with love to her Redeemer; gradually, were her 
affections weaned from earthly objects and 
fixed on heavenly. She had no mystick 
flashes of conviction, no sudden illuminations 
of the spirit, no miraculous warnings or pas- 
sionate extacies by which her soul was in- 
stantaneously renewed. — Hers was the work 
of earnest and devout prayer, of tearful and 
agonizing contrition, of solemn reflection, of 
heaven directed meditation- — she asked and 
it was given her—she sought, and she found- 
she knocked and it was opened unto her — she 
asked in prayer, believing, and she received. 
She advanced from knowledge to knowledge, 
from grace to grace, until we have every rea- 
son to believe, she became as perfect in her 
Redeemer as her fallen nature would perniit. 



£7 

During this winter she was not wholly 
weaned from those polite amusements which 
fashion sanctions, although she cannot sancti- 
fy — Yet she preferred the society of serious 
friends— she sought the sober fire side circle 
rather than the gay drawing room — and the 
60cial parlour she preferred to the crowded 
ball room — she mingled little, very little, in 
the pleasures of fashionable society. 

Not that abstractedly considered,she deemed 
them criminal.— But she doubted whether 
they were objects worthy the pursuit of beings 
destined to eternity — whether they were con- 
sistent with that improvement of the few 
hours of our earthly pilgrimage which the 
Scriptures enjoin; and whether their tendency 
is "not to counteract that blessed spirit of 
Grace which is constantly striving with man — 
Certain it is, that in her own case she felt 
such to be the fact.— They had ceased to give 



£8 

tier pleasure — and she had long ceased to 
hiingle in them, but when solicited and urged 
by her friends, — Now that she became con- 
vinced that they were wrong, the case was at 
once decided. — While enjoying her usual 
health, she resolved to abandon them wholly; 
and she assured the writer of this, that she 
would never again be present at a play or a 
ball 

Although at the time residing in Baltimore, 
the scene of her youthful pleasures, surround- 
ed by her gay and early friends, tempted 
constantly by those pleasures in full view, 
and daily importuned +o taste them — and al- 
though she had often said that such had been 
her attachment to those amusements, that she 
once thought it impossible to abandon them, 
yet, they became less than nothing, when 
placed in the balance against what she deem- 
ed her duty, and having resolved entirely to 



29 

refrain, she evinced the solid foundations of 
her piety, by never, in the slightest degree 
deviating from her resolution. 

Yet she shunned not the society of the 
cheerful and gay companions of her youth- 
Nothing of moroseness, or gloom or misan- 
thropy was visible in her countenance or de- 
portment. On the contrarj r , her progress in 
piety, by mingling a little gravity with her 
natural vivacity, by spreading a shade of se- 
riousness over the playful sallies of her ima- 
gination, by gilding her conversation and her 
conduct, with sentiment and virtue almost 
unalloyed, rendered her more attractive, more 
amiable, more lovely and more beloved. 

In March last (1815) she was married— 
Her character as a wife is known but to tme 
in this world. 

She was capable of that deep, generous. 

self demoting sentiment, which, in retirement,, 

e2 



30 

springs amid mutual charities and mutual 
pursuits, links itself with every interest of life, 
and twines itself even with hopes of immor- 
tal happiness. She was a wife but nine months, 
five of which were passed in sickness, and in 
suffering. Bnt if the tenderest sensibility of 
soul, the purest and warmest heart a sound 
judgment, a disposition sweet and placid, a live- 
ly and playful wit, a firm, constant, self devoting 
attachment, knowledge various and elegant, a 
delicacy which almost shrunk from observa- 
tion, an enthusiastick love of domestick life, a 
deep and solemn sense of religion; a know- 
ledge of ail her duties, and a soul intent upon 
their full performance could render the con- 
jugal state happy; her husband must have been 
happy. He was happy while she enjoyed 
health; he was tortured by her sickness and 
agojiies. 



: si 

0! may the same Almighty hand, which has 
so heavily pressed him to the earth, raise him 
from the death of sin, enable him to imitate 
his beloved wife in the hour of sickness and of 
death, and finally join her again in those ce- 
lestial mansions where there is no more sick- 
ness or pain. 

She lived and died a member of the Protestant 
Episcopal church, under the guidance and sanc- 
tion of the Right Re vd. Bishop Kemp, of Balti- 
more. She received the holy communion early 
In the last spring, and endeavored to ap- 
propriate to her soul the body and blood of her 
crucified Redeemer. With what indescriba- 
ble emotions did I witness the humilityj the 
trembling anxiety, the agonizing contrition, 
the holy awe with which she partook that 
highest and most awful sacrament of our 
holy religion. At that moment, bowed to the 
-■"{■"tv earth- she seemed to surrender her soul 



32 

and body to the great duties of Christianity; 
und finally to consecrate her whole heart to 
the service of her Divine Master* Salvation 
became, henceforth* the great end of her life; 
the great, but silent duties of religion the 
means by which that, end was to be attained; 
that end she henceforth pursued without de- 
fieciionj those means she continued to practise 
without weariness. 

In June, she was affected by a severe cold, 
and accompanied by coughing, wandering 
pains, and the expectoration of a very little 
blood. The physicians considered the affec- 
tion temporary and not dangerous. The cold 
disappeared, but the cough continued not ve- 
ry serious, and the pain occasional, but not 
violent. Dunns: the month she left Ealti- 
more, on a visit to her brothers on Elk Ridge. 
Alas, she left it never more to return. 



While residing at Belmont, her cough be- 
came more violent, the pains in her sides and 
breast more frequent and more acute — Her 
health rapidly declined — Eminent physician* 
were called in. They considered her situation 
not alarming nor dangerous, and prescribed a 
course for her relief which was strictly pur* 
sued— It was thought best to spend the 
summer in travelling— -And in a few days she 
was about to depart on a tour through the 
northern and eastern states — It was believed 
that such a tour, would restore her to per- 
fect health. 

On the eleventh of July, she went to dine 
with her brother Charles a distance of four 
miles — Her spirits and health had been un- 
usually low for several days preceeding — But 
on this day her usual flow of spirits returned. 
She seemed revived, and at dinner was cheer- 
ful, and evesi lively — A few moments after 



she had dined a deadly sickness came upon her. 
An hemoptysis immediately ensued, and she 
discharged from her lungs a large quantity of 
blood — With much difficulty the hemorr- 
hage was staunched — But in a manner which 
threatened every moment a return. 

Physicians were instantly sent for in all 
directions; but from some fatality, or rather 
from some mysterious cause, Providence so 
directed that not one could be procured — 
Nor could every exertion provide medical at* 
tendance before the succeeding morning. 

The night was very tempestuous — And I 
watched over the lovely and patient sufferer 
iii a state of anxiety not to be described-— 
Never, never will the emotions of that night 
be erazed from my memory — Unable to 
speak, not daring to move, every moment 
threatened with a recurrence of the hemorr- 
hage, which in the absence of medical assjs- 



tance it was almost certain, could not again 
be staunched, and which if not staunched 
must soon terminate her life, she lay in de- 
vout resignation, patiently awaiting the morn- 
ing — About two o'clock at night, the blood be- 
gan again to flow with a violence that threat- 
ened instant dissolution—- Every instant a 
slight hectick cough cast forth a torrent of 
blood. Every effort to check the torrent was in 
vain. 

It was a heart-rending scene never to be 
realized by any but those who beheld it — At 
length by opening veins in her arms and per- 
mitting the blood to continue flowing; the 
hemorrhage from her lungs ceased, leaving her 
faint, exhausted and almost in the arms of 
death — During this terrible scene, she, with 
us all, believed herself dying — Even then she 
seemed prepared for the awful change, and 
was th§ only person in the groupe who was 



86 

calm and collected — " I am gone/ 3 she once 
said in a feeble but firm voice, and clasping her 
hands, she raised her half closed eyes to Heav- 
en, with an expression^ such fervent devo- 
tion and sweet resignation, as I never witnes- 
sed in any one but herself, 

A bilious fever succeeded, which for twen- 
ty one days raged with a fury beyond the con- 
trol of medicine— At length it subsided 
and symptoms of a phthisis pulmonalis appear- 
ed — Her disorder soon assumed the defined 
shape of a consumption. From the first she 
had been unable to stand or move from her 
bed, but in the arms of another— For five 
months, pains the most acute and tormenting, 
were her constant attendants — Throughout 
her whole system, day and night, rarely with 
the intermission oi a moment, never of an 
hour, her pains and agonies were almost in the 
extreme. At length her life alter quivering 



long in the socket was suddenly extinguish- 
ed—And that soul which had long been fa- 
miliar with death, and had long rested on faith, 
took its flight from a world of suffering, to min- 
gle with congenial spirits in the new Jerusalem 
above — It now remains to view this lovely 
Christian in sickness and in death — And, 0! 
blessed Redeemer, who didst fill the soul of my 
beloved Mary with faith, hope and charity, in 
the agonies of sickness and of death; inspire 
me with a proper spirit to set forth the piou? 
example of my beloved wife, in a manner 
w r orthy of the great and solemn scene! 

A writer of some celebrity has said "no 
"species of reputation is so cheaply purcha- 
sed as death bed fortitude: when it is fruit- 
less to contend and impossible to fly, little 
'applause is due to that resignation which pa- 
tiently awaits its doom," 



If applied to that "fool who hath said in his 
heart there is no God; let us eat drink and 
be merry, for to-morrow we die;" if applied 
to the hardened reprobate whose soul is cased 
in iniquity, and whose conscience is seared 
as with a red hot iron; or to that cold blooded 
infidel who spurns the blood of a Redeemer, 
shed on the cross for him, and who never once 
reasoned of righteousness, temperance and the 
j udgment to come, the remark may sometimes 
prove true- — But surely he must be mad, who 
dignifies the death bed lethargy or such an one 
with the name of "fortitude," or "patience," 
or "resignation." No, it is that horrible calm 
which, cold, dark and heavy, spreads its benum- 
bing influence over a soul in which every ray 
of joy is extinguished, over which unmixed 
despair presides — Call it not 'fortitude." — It 
is damning, lethargick insensibility — or silent 
helpless despair— Different, far different is 



S9 

the condition of him who believes the book of 
life — who acknowledges its sound truths, and 
feels at the hour of death, that he is just ap- 
proaching, naked and alone, the judgment seat 
of the Almighty. 

To him who believes that man, unconvert- 
ed, unregenerate man, is the child of inevita- 
ble and eternal perdition, who knows that re- 
pentance for sin, the Grace of God and a 
holy life are indispensable to salvation, who 
believes that a just God will judge the dead 
and that as death leaves him, so that judgment 
will find him; him, who on his death bed with 
these views of the eternal world, and is 
yet conscious that he has not one of these in- 
dispensable requisites to plead at that awful 
tribunal to which death is even then dragging 
him, is "patient resignation," is "death bed 
fortitude," easy? Conscious that the hour of 
probation has been thrown away, feeling that 



40 

the summer is past, that the harvest is ended, 
and he not saved, the very conviction that "it 
is fruitless to contend," and "impossible to 
fly/' 0! how must it agitate the whole frame, 
how must it overwhelm in distraction every 
faculty of the mind? how must it steep the 
whole soul in the very essence of agony? At 
such a moment, and with such a man is the 
bubble "reputation 55 to be sought? is death- 
bed fortitude" to be easily purchased? no — 
these paltry trinkets of a vain world vanish 
like the visions of insanity— The mind is en- 
tirely occupied in the view of the eternal 
world—the soul shrinks in agony from the 
gulph which yawns to receive it — and its last 
accents are heard invoking mercy— or are 
vainly spent in calling on the mountains to 
hide it from the face of him who sitteth on the 
throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb: for 
the great day of his wrath is come, and he is 



41 

not able to stand. no — it is that man that 
hath a conscience void of offence, that is in 
charity with the world, that is purified from 
all stains in the blood of the Lamb, and is in 
close union with his Redeemer, such, and 
such only, is the man who wishes not "to fly* 
but to the arms of his Saviour, who wishes 
not "to contend," but for a crown of righte- 
ousness — -whose "death bed" is crowned with 
"fortitude," who "purchases reputation ea- 
sily," who, not only, with "patience and re- 
signation," but with holy hope, confidence 
and triumph, "awaits his eternal and happy 
doom." 

Mrs. Grosvenor during the dangerous pe- 
riod of her fever, had appeared calm and re~ 
signed to death— she expressed her firm reli- 
ance on the rich grace of her Redeemer, and 
I have no doubt then possessed "a reasonable 
religious and holy hope" of- salvation— \» 
d 2 



4£ 

her affections were not wholly weaned from 
all earthly objects — when the violence of her 
fever abated, she was removed to Belmont — 
Here she apparently began to recover — and 
there were great hopes of her restoration to 
health— she herself joined in, and was cheered 
bv that hope. 

She had just entered into a state which she 
imagined would afford her all the happiness 
of which she was capable on earth — her fond 
partiality, and her lively imagination, paint- 
ed to her virtuous and affectionate heart, 
years of love, tranquillity and usefulness 
which she delighted to anticipate, and which 
she still hoped to realize— Yet amidst the 
most fascinating dreams of earthly affection 
and happiness, when she constantly prayed 
for her recovery she never ceased to breathe 
forth in humble submission "not mine but 
thy will be done." Her Christian education 



43 

was not yet entirely completed in the school 
ef suffering — Hence she still felt her affec- 
tions returning to the dear objects of earth- 
she still rejoiced in the hope which was en- 
tertained of her recovery. This flattering 
hope was like the last gleam of the setting 
sun, streaming over the hills and vallies a few 
brilliant and transitory rays and leaving the 
earth to darkness and to night. 

Her disorder became an inveterate con- 
sumption, attended by all its worst diagnos- 
ticks. Henceforth it never for a moment yield- 
ed to the efforts of her Physicians — Physi- 
cians who combined profound knowledge of 
their profession with the liberal, warm and 
tender sensibilities of men. A settled con- 
viction that her disorder would rapidly run its 
course and terminate in death, now took pos- 
session of her mind — yet that mind was un- 
shaken by the conviction — she became, in- 



3eed, more earnest and constant in prayer 
and praise, and her only solicitude was to 
improve the remaining hours of her life to the 
Glory of her Redeemer, and to her own sal- 
vation. Often amidst the agonies of pain have 
I heard her bless the name of her Maker for 
allowing her even a protracted life of suffer- 
ing. Often hath she poured out her soul in 
thanksgivings for the severe but healthful dis- 
cipline which her soul was receiving from his 
hand. Her Christian conversations were daily 
and nightly. But it was for about three hours 
in the middle of the night that she was gene- 
rally most free from pain — and then it gene' 
rally was that religion formed the topick of 
those interesting conversations — -they turned 
for the most part, upon the habits and conduct 
of her life— the present state of her departed 
friends, the religious condition of those who still 
lived—the rich Grace of the Redeemer, the 



45 

influence of Christianity on the heart and 
life — on preparations for death and eternity-— 
the exercises and emotions of her own soul 
in prayer and worship — her feelings and 
views in relation to the world she was about 
to leave — and in contemplation of the great 
and awful change which was rapidly approach- 
ing. These conversations are imprinted on 
my memory — they have made an impression 
on my heart never to be removed. But I can* 
not bring myself to detail them— I should 
weaken their force and do her memory 
injustice. — As she approached nearer her end 3 
she seemed to become more and more calm 
and familiar with Death — she frequently con- 
versed on that event with all the serenity, 
solemnity and fervour, which always marked 
her conversation on any religious topick — 
on one such occasion she was asked whether 
she felt prepared to meet her God; whether 



46 

she could fly to the arms of her Saviour with 
hope and confidence of happiness. "0 yes,' 
she said, "such are my feelings now — I think I 
have taken a final leave of this world — I think 
nothing could induce me to wish again to 
mingle with it." 

"It is long since I have prayed for my re- 
covery — It seems to me that all I now want 
is to be present with my Redeemer — Yet she 
continued after a short pause — -"It is an awful 
meeting, and well may the purest saints trem- 
ble at the thought of it — -To enter undisguised 
and alone in the presence of the great God— 
The just, omniscient, offended, insulted, Al- 
mighty Judge of heaven and earth—- To be 
viewed by Him — To be judged by Him!! — 0! 
who is without sin? — Who shall be able to 
stand? — None, none but those whom a merci- 
ful Saviour shall support. 0! blessed Redeem- 
er, on thy cross, on thy blood, on thy body, are 



47 

placed all my hopes in that awful hour— Sup- 
ported by thy Almighty arm, I can meet death 
without fear — I can pass through the dark val- 
ley without fainting — I can enter into the pre- 
sence of my judge with hope and confidence— 
For thou, 0! blessed Saviour, hast washed my 
soul in thy own blood — hast satisfied the 
claims of divine justice, hast interceded with 
thy Father and my Father, and hast procured 
pardon for my sins" — After a pause of a few 
minutes spent in silent meditation, she con- 
tinued — "Yet may I not deceive myself?— 
When the final struggle approaches, may I not 
faint? May I not shrink from the awful trial?'' 
She was asked whether she had examined her 
heart deeply, and the foundation of her faith 
and hopes vigilantly? And whether she had 
any reason to suppose that they were built on 
sandy foundations? She replied, "It is the 
constant business of my lingering life to ex- 



48 

amine and search my affections; I have en- 
deavoured to correct all enthusiasm and to 
check and chastise my feelings— With the 
most earnest prayer I have daily endeavoured 
to explore my heart and affections. But the 
book of truth assures me, and I know, that the 
heart is deceitful above all things and despe- 
rately wicked! And I sometimes tremble at 
the bare possibility that it may elude my search 
and deceive me to my ruin— "0!" she continu- 
ed, "pray for me that my Heavenly Father may 
not suffer me to be deceived. I have no rea- 
son to suspect that I am deceived. On the 
contrary I have the firmest reliance on the 
mercy of my Gracious Father. I have the 
most undoubting hope that the cross of my 
Redeemer hath subdued my heart. Yet pray 
for me that I may not be deceived. And 
constantly pray that the holy hope and confi- 
dence which now consoles and cheers my heart 



49 

may continue to support me — that it may in- 
spire me with confidence and triumph in the 
hour of my dissolution — then I shall neither 
faint or shrink from the trial — for then I shall 
fear no evil; pray for me that my Gracious 
Father may enable me in my last hour, to show 
you a good example of Christian hope, confi- 
dence and joy" — "0!" she concluded, " had I 
worlds I would freely give them to know what 
will be my views, hopes, and feelings in the 
last hour of my life — But God is good, merci- 
ful and true. He will not abandon me then- 
He will sustain me for I have no other hope, 
no other consolation— Hath he not said "I 
will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." — By 
frequent conversations like this she taught as 
from the grave the great lesson, that all reli- 
ance for salvation, is in the rich, unmerited 
mercy of the Redeemer. 



50 

Recurring on one occasion to the even is of 
her past life, it was remarked to her, that her 
life had been uncommonly innocent and vir- 
tuous, and that this must be a subject of great 
comfort to her in her present condition. — 

She said she hoped it was true, that from her 
infancy she had endeavoured to shun positive 
sins and wicked pursuits — she had generally at- 
tended the publick worship of God and had not 
neglected the duties of private devotion — and 
as Ions as she remembered, had been inclined 
to do good and useful actions, rather than use- 
less and evil ones—Certainly, she said, tin* 
reflection was consoling and precious to her- - 
a consolation she would not barter for worlds- 
Yet, she said, her hopes of forgiveness and 
salvation were none of them placed on tins 
foundation—Her motives, even is the most 
virtuous actions, had not been pure—The glory 
of God. the lore of her Saviour, obedience te 



51 



his will had not been her motive — No, her ac- 
tions would not bear the scrutiny of that All 
Just Father who cannot look on sin with the 
least allowance and whose indispensable requi- 
sition is "My Son give me thine Heart," How 
much of the feelings of this vain world had en- 
tered into all her best actions! How much preci- 
ous time had she thrown away on the vanities 
of this world!— How many opportunities of 
serving and worshiping her Heavenly Father 
had she neglected! — How often had she resist- 
ed the suggestions of the Spirit of Grace stri- 
ving with her and urging her to enter on the 
great work of salvation! — How often had she 
practically said to that holy spirit "go thy way 
for this time; when I have a convenient sea- 
I son I will call for thee!" "0 no!" she continu- 
al ed "the catalogue of my sins is endless — my 
life would justly subject me to eternal pun- 
iflnuent— for I have constantly rebelled against 



02 



a tender, long suffering, Gracious Father — 
But blessed, forever blessed be his great and 
holy name he hath promised a way for my re- 
turn to his arms— It is the blood of the Lamb, 
slain for the sins of the world, which alone 
can blot out my dreadful transgressions and 
cleanse my soul for Heaven — What unspeak- 
able grace, what incomprehensible love is this! 
That the only Son of God should leave the bo- 
som of his Father to bleed and die, that rebels 
might be restored to innocence and salvation; 
O how do I now wonder, that with a full 
knowledge of all this kindness, this voluntary 
mercy, I could for one moment continue in- 
different or obstinate, that I could refrain 
from throwing myself into the open arms of my 
blessed Saviour, my dear and precious 
husband, look to that glorious and mer- 
ciful Redeemer— See what he has done 
for you — Can you resist his mercy and his 



km-; Can vou bear to think that the Son 
of the Most High God shall die in vain for 
vuii? embrace his mercy—accept his love. 
() how will } t ou rejoice when you arrive at the 
atata in which I now am, if you now receive 
liiiu m your God, your Saviour, your all— It is 
on his free and rich grace, on his blood alone 
that any soul can rest any hope of salvation — ■ 
How do they deceive themselves who think that 
a life of common morality can atone for sin, en- 
title them to mercy and salvation, or even fit 
them for the pure and holy joys of Heaven.*' 

She then expressed fervent gratitude for 
the Christian lesson, which she had been told 
the most Rev, Arch* Bishop Carroll, had, a few 
days before given to the world on this subject-— 
A friend spoke to him of his blameless life 
and useful actions as a strong ground for hope 
and confidence. He pointed to the cross he- 
fore him and solemnly replied, "there is the 



on 1 j foundation of any hope and coniidtnce- 
of salvation that I possess." 

If, she said, a man like Bishop Carroll, deep- 
ly learned in all the doctrines of Christianity, 

of a life, pure as human nature can attains 
endowed with all the moral and social virtues" 
abounding in charity, of unquestionable piety 
whose good and useful actions were almost as 
numerous as the moments of his life, was found 
with the publican to cry " God be merci- 
ful to me a sinner;" if he was driven to the 
cross as his only refuge from eteh&t miserv. 
who shall be so madly presumptuous as to re! 
on his own virtue, his own innocence, his own 
merits for salvation?" She earnestly hoped 
that this humble and Christian example mi. 
be widely spread, that it might help to rouse 
from their fetal security all those, who proh 
ing the name of Chris much on 

ir moral virtues for happiness, I 



them 10 bring their own reward in a future 
world. About a fortnight before her death 
}>r. Kemp visited her for the last time. He 
conversed freely with her, prayed with her, and 
for the last time administered the sacrament 
of the holy supper. what a visible consola- 
tion to her soul was this visit and this holy 
sacrament.— It must afford that kind and ex- 
cellent Prelate the purest joy to know that he 
was the instrument in the hands of Providence, 
to fill with comfort and holy confidence the 
soul of an expiring Christian — Under all her 
sufferings she had strove to imitate the holy 
Apostle of the Gentiles — "Her distresses 
abounded ;" "she seemed to be pressed above 
measure." The flesh was weak; and in the 
early part of her sickness groans and tears 
were forced from her by the agonizing pains 
which racked her frame— Yet even then she ac- 
(edged the band of her gracious Father 



56 

who inflicted them; declared them mere mil 
and less than nothing, in comparison with 
what her transgressions merited. As her sick - 
ness advanced, though her pains increased, her 
patience and resignation increased; and she 
bore them without a murmur and almost with- 
out a groan — She wished to come out of the 
conflict not only as conqueror, but more than 
a conqueror "through him who loved us;' 5 for 
"she reckoned that the sufferings of the pre- 
sent time were not worthy to be compared 
with the glory that shall be revealed*" 

After the last Sacrament, I have remarked 
that a superiour resignation, calmness, hope 
and confidence were visible in her conduct 
and conversation. No doubts or difficulties 
disturbed the serenity of her soul— she knew 
that her last hour rapidly approached. Sue 
longed for that hour. Yet she resigned fa^ef* 
self wholly to the will of her God; and "tl§V 



57 

will be done," mingled with all her sufferings, 
all her prayers, all the emotions of her soul. 

During her sickness I read to her a literary 
work, called "Discipline" — A book, which, 
though published in the form of a novel, is fill- 
ed with the most elevated strains of moral 
precepts, and the most lively models of Chris- 
tian examples. Little could that excellent 
writer suppose, when she was drawing the fol- 
lowing portrait of death-bed piety, resignation, 
and confidence, that her picture would so soon 
find an original in almost every line and fea* 
iure: 

"Her malady had now assumed a shape 
"which announced to all, that she had but a few 
"days to live. She was fully conscious of this, 
''Yet no expression of impatience betrayed her. 
''For more than four months, I scarcely quitted 
"her bedside, by day, never by night. During 
"the latter days of this protracted suffering, 



58 

"though her pains were constant and beyond 
"description dreadful, neither cry nor groan 
"escaped her. Often have I wiped the big drops 
"of agony from her forehead; but she never 
"'complained. She was more than patient; the 
"settled temper of her mind was thankfulness. 
"The decay of its prison house seemed only 
"to give the spirit a foretaste of freedom. 
"Timid by nature, beyond even the usual fear- 
"fulness of her sex, she yet endured the most 
"agonizing pains, not with the iron contumacy 
"of a savage, but with the submission of a filial 
"love. The approach of death she watched 
"more in the spirit of the conqueror than the 
'"victim. Yet she often expressed her willing- 
"aess to linger on, till suffering should have 
"extinguished every tendency to self will &n& 
"helplessness should have destroyed every yes- 
*'tige of pride. Her desire was granted. IJer tt> 
"alg brought with them an infallible token th&t 






59 

• f they came from a Father's hand. For her char- 
acter excellent as it had seemed, was exalted 
"by sufferings; and that which in life was lovely, 
"was in death sublime — At last the great work 
"was finished. Her education for eternity was 
"completed; and from the severe lessons of this 
''land of discipline, she was called to the bound- 
"less improvement, the instructive knowledge 
"'the glorious employment of her Father's 
c 'house. s ' 

On Saturday evening the second day of 
December she was visibly sinking — late in 
the evening she appeared to be dying — she 
prayed devoutly, and she was supported by her 
God. About midnight she revived, and she pour- 
ed forth praises to God, that he had vouchsaf- 
| ed his merciful support to her soul at the 
' I awful moment, when she believed she was 
about to appear at his tribunal. During the 
Sabbath she was almost constantly in prayer 



60 

and. thanksgiving. On Sunday evening it be- 
came almost certain that she could survive hut 
a few hours. She was conscious that the 
morning sun would rise in vain for her. About 
nine o'clock in an agony of pain, she said 
"sad hours seem long; but I am ungrateful— 
these hours are given me for further prepa- 
ration." 

She dozed occasionally; and when awake, 
prayer and devotion were her constant, but 
silent employment. About eleven her breast 
became dreadfully affected. She was asked 
if the usual application of a blister should be 
tried for her relief: 

"I have been considering that' 5 she replied. 
"It is too late.— 1 am certain there cannot be 
time allowed me for the application to produce 
any relief." 

It was indeed too late. Her only relief was 
now to be found in another world. Her only 
physician was the Great Physician of soul?, 



61 

Thus she continued until about two o'clock, 
when her breath became short and laborious, 
and her speech a little indistinct. About half 
past two, death had seized her. She was now r 
struggling in his arms. She seized the last 
moment allowed her, and with a look and tone, 
which evinced hope, confidence and holy tri- 
umph, which proved that her earnest prayers 
for support in her dying hours, were heard and 
answered; she exclaimed, "God bless you all 
Give him thanks that he has enabled me to set 
you this example.' , 

These were her last words. Not one struo*- 
gle, scarcely one convulsive spasm was visible. 
fp A smile of triumph lingered on her face.— 
It was the beam of a sun that had set. The 
saint had entered into rest." 

Such was the end of this young and lovely 
woman. It was a happy and glorious death. 
"It was a triumphant appeal to all whether our 



62 * 

blessed faith, brings not comfort unspeakable; 
but how strong, how suitable, how glorious its 
consolations are, no one can ever know, until, 
like her, he is bereft of all others, and like her 
finds them sufficient when all others fail." 

It is possible that the following description 
of the mind and person of the lovely woman 
whose life, sickness, sufferings and death, are 
too feebly sketched in the preceding pages y 
will be too highly coloured. It cannot be 
doubted that affection holds the pen. Yet I 
shall speak of her as she appeared to my judg- 
ment — as she now exists in my heart.— I speak 
too, what I religiously believe, as in the pre- 
sence of my Maker. 

The face of Mrs. Grosvenor was not beauti- 
ful according to the popular estimate of beau- 
ty. Her features were not perfectly regular, 
nor did the colours of the lily and the rose 
tningle among them in profusion. Yet her 



63 

countenance was fine and interesting-~Her 
eyes were of a light blue, large, and beaming 
with sensibility and intelligence-*-The whole 
of her countenance was so lighted up by her 
soul— its expression was so tempered with 
mildness and spirit, meekness and dignity, 
vivacity and thoughtfulness, that, though her 
face and features were not regular and beauti- 
ful, yet they posssessed something more stri- 
king more interesting, more dignified and de- 
lightful. 

Her person was delicately formed—of more 
than common height and sufficiently symme- 
trical. Her air was easy and graceful, though 
modest and a little reserved, Her movements 
corresponded to her person — they were light 
animated and elegant. But it was not 
her face and person, prepossessing as they 
really were, it was her ftrong and brilliant 
mind, her virtuous and affectionate heart. 



64 

which fascinated the love of all who knew her; 
perhaps the world contained not one mortal 
that wished her ill in life— She had not one 
acquaintance but mourned her sickness and 
prayed for her happiness in death. This uni* 
versal esteem of her acquaintance, was not 
acquired or retained by any artificial method 
It was the natural consequence, of that bene 
volence and charity of heart, which wished 
well to all human kind— and of that sensibili- 
ty and sympathy of soul which directed her in 
all her intercourse with the world. Her mind 
w r as vigorous and rich — Her powers of reason- 
ing were strong and accurate, and her judge- 
ment was cultivated, clear and sound. Indeed 
all the faculties of reason and judgment were 
mature beyond her sex and age. But an ima- 
gination excursive, brilliant and lofty, was the 
predominant characteristick of her mind — She 
loved to give it ample scope-— to soar on its 



bo 



wings through ideal scenes, through untried 
being and other worlds. It would have been 
dangerous, if it had not been directed by a 
pure taste, cherished by the strong arm of rea- 
son, and regulated by virtue, morality and re- 
ligion. She had wit in no ordinary measure. 
It never was seen to flash upon the world- — 
But those little friendly circles which she 
most loved can never forget, that playful fancy, 
and delicate raillery with which she enliven- 
ed conversation and rendered domestick scenes 
delightful. 

She had an absolute passion for poetry—and 
was familiar with the great masters of song, 
who knew to strike those strings of harmony 
which vibrate strongest on the human heart* 
A soul, attuned to harmony, tremulous as the 
shade of the light, quivering aspen, and deeply 
sensible to grand or pathetick images, aided by 
a retentive memory, had stored her mind, with 
f 2 



66 

almost every passage in her favourite poets 
distinguished for elevated thought or elegant 
diction. Her knowledge of history was accu- 
rate and sufficiently extensive. She was tole- 
rably versed in the science of Ethics — And 
she had read attentively the best Christian 
works in our language. 

With these mental and moral endowments, 
she did not strive to shine in the world beyond 
the sphere of her familiar friends — She had 
none of that paltry ambition for publick ap- 
plause or admiration, which sometimes lead^ 
female votaries to show off their accomplish- 
ments, at the expense of retiring modesty 
and female decorum — She made no parade 
of her talents— On the contrary, she shrunk 
from observation — and except among her 
immediate friends, was a listener rather 
than a talker. 



67 

She possessed by nature, even more than 
the usual timidity of her sex — Yet in the du- 
ties of life and religion, she was resolute even 
to bravery — She had no affectation of tender- 
ness and delicacy — Yet the very fibres of her 
soul trembled with disgust at any thing really 
indelicate or indecorous — And though she 
shrunk not from loathsome scenes to which 
her duty called her; scenes which would have 
shivered to atoms, the nerves of many a fash- 
ionable fair one — Yet she never stepped be- 
yond those rules even of arbitrary origin, which 
the general consent of the Christian world, 
has imposed on the conduct of her sex. 

Yet the riches of her mind were not folded 
in a napkin—nor were the virtues of her soul 
hidden under a bushel. 

Her correspondence was extensive; and she 
wrote in a style of elegance and Kvelittess 



68 

formed on an excellent model.* The infan- 
tile minds of the little children who were pla- 
ced near her, received from her mouth early 



* The following obituary notice of Mrs. Magruder 
her relation and friend is subjoined.— Mrs. Magruder 
died of a lingering consumption in October, 1814.— 
She was the daughter of Dr. Phiiiip Thomas of 
Frederick county, Maryland, and the sister of John 
Hanson Thomas and Mrs. Alexander of Baltimore.— 
The two former died in May 1816. 

"Departed this life on the 2Fth of October, in the 
S7th year of her age, after severe and protracted 
suffering, Mrs. Rebecca B. Magrudeh, wife of Alex- 
ander C. Magruder, esq. 

In vain shall the pen of affection attempt to deline- 
ate the character of this excellent woman, or to de- 
scribe the agony of those afflicted friends left to 
mourn her'loss. 

In her death her sex has lost one of its brightest 
ornaments. She possessed a mind enlightened and 
elevated — a heart sincere, generous and expanded.— 
Few have lived, in whom were so carefully and softly 
blended, useful and shining talents, with gentleness, 
meekness, humility, piety and modesty. In the rela- 
tive dutie-s of life, as daughter, wife, mother, ?: 



69 



lessons of knowledge; early impressions of 
virtue and piety — Servants in those families 
where she resided, even the sable children of 



and friend, these qualities shone with peculiar lustre; 
and in all these characters she has left an example 
worthy of universal imitation. May that bright exam- 
ple never cease to impress the heart and influence 
the conduct of her who offers this tribute to a beloved 
friend. 

It was the will of Heaven that an aged father should 
support in his feeble arms the sinking frame of his 
beloved and expiring child. — May the merciful God, 
who tempers the wind to the shorn Lamb, grant him 
grace to bow and to kiss the afflictive rod. 

An adoring husband has beheld her, on whom rest- 
ed all his hopes of temporal felicity; her, who like a 
Guardian Angel, had pointed to virtue and to peace; 
who had imparted consolation, and love and joy, 
snatched from Mm in the meridian of life. But she is 
not lost to him forever- Even now, while her frail 
body sleeps in the grave, soaring on wings of Christie 
an faith, he may behold her in a robe of celestial glo- 
ry, alluring him to join her in a brighter and a better 
world. 



70 

Africa received frequent lessons of religion, 
and portions of the word of God from her 
lips. 

She had little to bestow in Alms; but that 
little contributed to moisten the parched lips 



It is an awful thing to die; 
Yet the dread path once trod, 
Heaven opes its everlasting portals high 
And bids the pure in heart perceive their God- 
But for the four little cherubs she bequeathed to his 
care and affection, this would seem a dark and cheer- 
ess wilderness — But while he 

Marks with nature's peerless grace, 
Their blossoms blaw, 
Happy to see them fill the place 
Of her awa 

He will forget the ills of life, and in the performance 
of his lonely duties, he shall find his reward. 

An affectionate sister, too, is bereaved of the sole 
companion of her youth, the early, constant, enlight- 
ened, faithful friend of her bosom. Do thou, O God, 
support the mourners in this hour of affliction, and 
convert this severe temporal chastisement to their 
eternal good " 



71 

of the indigent sick, to sustain the broken 
spirits of the virtuous poor. To the extent of 
her limited means, and throughout the sphere 
in which she moved, she was constantly scat- 
tering benefits and consolations. 

O many were the wretches, steeped in 
poverty and in suffering, who invoked the 
blessings of Heaven upon her small, but kind 
and discriminating charities — not for her chari- 
ties only, but for her frequent visits to their 
desolate abodes, for the timely assistance 
which her own hand had rendered and the 
religious consolation which her soothing ad- 
monitions have administered — How many 
pillows of sickness and agony has her own 
hand smoothed? Over how many beds of death 
has she watched, relieving sorrow by her 
sympathy, attuning to heaven by her persua- 
sions, assuaging even the agonies of death by 
her kindness and consolation? 



Perfection is not given to mortals—Yet 
some are blest, with purer, kinder, more virtu- 
ous souls. And if ever there was a mere 
woman whose life and death were models 
worthy of universal imitation, this was that 
excellent woman. 

I appeal to those who knew her intimately, 
who could understand her affections, whose 
minds were sufficiently elevated to hold com- 
munion with her soul — She was lofty, yet 
meek; patient and cheerful; affectionate, brave, 
faithful and pious; a pillow formed to adorn 
and support the temple of this life's happiness. 
Of her piety in life and in death, I have 
fully written — I have nothing to add. It was a 
piety built on the deep foundations of faith, 
hope and charity — It was rational, fervent and 
habitual — It was such a piety, which rendered 
her lovely in health, which supported her 
fragile frame, through five months of agony 



rendering her soul always resigned, generally 
cheerful — which enabled her to smile even in 
the face of Death, and bore her in triumph 
from his iron arms to life and peace eternal— 
As descriptive of her life, I would add the 
following beautiful lines: 

"Playful and artless, on the summer wave 
"Sporting with buoyant wing", the fairy scene 
"With fairest grace adorning; but in woe, 
"In poverty, in soul subduing griefs, 
"In patient tending on the sick man's bed 
"In ministerings of love, in bitterest pangs— 
"Faithful and firm; in scenes where firmer hearts 
I "Have cracked, still cheerful, and still kind." 

In relation to her death and present state, 
may I not, without presumption, apply the 
triumphant language of holy Paul: 
* "She hath fought the good fight, she hatli 
"finished her course, she hath kept the faith; 
"henceforth there is laid up for her a crown of 

G 



H 

''Righteousness, which the Lord, the Righte- 
ous Judge shall give her at that day; and not 
"to her only, but to all them that love his offer- 
ing/' 

In the firm belief of this* "I sorrow not for 
"her who is asleep, as those who have no hope; 
"for I believe that Jesus died and rose again; 
"and even so, them also, which sleep in Jesus, 
"mil God bring with him." 



APPENDIX. 

The Editor presumes the reader would be 
pleased to receive at least a brief account of 
the authour of the preceding pages. 

The Hon. Thomas P. Grosvenor survi- 
ved his amiable and pious lady, about fifteen 
months. He was of a strong constitution 
and generally enjoyed excellent health until 
about two months before his death, when he 
was attacked (as was ascertained after his 
death) with an enlargement of the heart, of 
which disease, he died on the twenty-fourth 
of April, 1817. in the thirty-eighth year of his 
age. He was a native of Connecticut, and 
was educated at Yale College, under the 
direction of the late Dr. D wight. Durins: the 
last five years of Ids life, he was a distinguish 



76 

ed Representative in the Congress of the 
United States, from the state of New York. 
After his marriage., he commenced the prac- 
tice of the law in the city of Baltimore, where 
he already ranked among the most distin- 
guished members of the bar. As a mark of 
•heir high respect for his memory, on motion 
of General Harper, the Court adjourned the 
ilrst day after his funeral to hold a meeting, 
at which the judges, by invitation of the bar, 
attended, when the following resolution was 
unanimously adopted: — 

"Resolved that the members of the Balti- 
**more bar, as a mark of respect for the vir- 
tues, character and talents of their departed 
'brother, the Hon. Thomas P. Grosvenor, 
"and their deep regret for his early loss, will 
-wear crape on the left arm for one month." 

For a further account of this estimable man, 
the fallowing obituary, ascribed to Paul Allen, 



Esq. is republished from the Federal Repub- 
lican and Baltimore Telegraph. 

"It is with no ordinary sensibility that we 
"commit to our obituary the name of the 
"Hon. Thomas P. Grosvenor, He died at 
"the seat of the Hon. Judge Hanson, in the 
"thirty-eigth year of his age. During the 
"last session of congress, he was seized with 
"an affection in his chest, which was thought 
"by the physicians to be desperate aud malig- 
"nant. Nevertheless, hopes were entertained 
"from the excellence of his constitution, that 
"his life might be still spared to his country 
"and to his friends. — These hopes gained ad- 
ditional confirmation from the protracted 
"character of his malady, until a very short 
"period before his decease. In the midst of 
"all these fallacious hopes, the disorder sud- 
denly took a more violent turn, and in a very 
"short period put an end to his existence. 



78 

"Very imperfectly indeed would those es- 
timate the qualities of the deceased, who 
"form their judgment from his public services 
"alone. The features of his moral character 
"were not distinctly defined when seen by 
"the blaze of publick admiration. He was 
"only recognized there, as the intrepid defend- 
er of the people's rights, which he maintained 
"with an ability, firmness and constancy, pro* 
"portionate to their own importance, and the 
"danger to be apprehended from their viola- 
tion, Yet here amidst ail these party storms 
"of debate, one feature of his character was 
"plainly discernable; politics with him posses- 
sed nothing of its usual grovelling selfish- 
-ness— - his hostility was on a large, manly 
"noble, comprehensive scale — his genius was 
s seen and felt as a publick man, guided by 
'publick motives, and governed by a sense of 
pnblirk duly, and not as a ruthless, persecu- 



19 

"ting, personal opponent — at the conclusion 
"of the debate, when with an honest fidelity 
"as a publick servant he had discharged his 
"duty, he could take the most violent of his 
"political opponents by the hand, and indulge 
"in all the flow of cordial affection. We hope 
"that this example, set by one of the leaders 
"of the federal party, will be remembered and 
"imitated by both parties. 

"But we repeat the remark that this trait, 
"beautiful and luminous as it is, was not the 
"distinctive trait of the character. It was 
"this: in the hour when the strong and impe- 
rious claims of publick service were satisfied, 
"when he was no longer a publick man, when 
"he was left to the guidance of his own heart, 
"all these high qualities retired from the gaze. 
"Mild, accessible, communicative and urbane, 
"he was then only distinguished by superiour 
""courtesy, frankness and intellect. We 



were suddenly surprized by strong and mas- 
culine combinations of thought, splendid and 
"original views of publick men and of publick 
"measures, and those all presented with such 
"ease and familiarity, with such simplicity of 
"character, so void of all ostentation, or parade, 
iC that we were delighted, entertained, and in- 
structed without being ourselves sensible of 
"the obligation. He threw off the splendour 
"of his publick reputation, and approached in 
"the guise and character of a friend on equal 
"•terms. On this point we can speak with 
"feeling and with emphasis, and hazard no- 
rthing in the assertion, that a stranger who 
"had read the publick papers, and had acci- 
dentally conversed with the deceased, de- 
lighted, astonished and instructed as he 
"would be, never would for a moment believe, 
"that his sociable, frank and communicative 
"guest, was the orator who on the floor of 



81 

"congress had so often electerized the house 
"of Representatives. In short, this peculiar 
"change of character from the high and intre- 
pid to the more amiable, frank and pleasant 
"qualities, formed the peculiar chai acteristick 
"of the deceased. His private conversation 
"was, as Burke says, the green on which the 
"eye reposed after it was withdrawn from 
"his splendour. We observed the muscular 
"limbs and proportions of the giant, while 
"he appeased himself to slumber, unconscious 
"of his strength. It is an undoubted fact, 
"that neither the politicsil friends, or the 
"political enemies of Grosvenor,are sensible of 
"the full weight of his character; but death 
"is a melancholy teacher. 

"When these great and distinctive points 
"of character are stated, all the common rela- 
tionships in life may be inferred. If the 
"darkness of political controversy was only a 



8£ 

"cloud transiently passing over a sunbeam— 
"if every thing beyond was green, beautiful, 
"and luminous, it is surely unnecessary to say 
"that in the calms of ordinary life, his orb was 
"lovely and serene: it is unnecessary to say 
"that his heart was the repository of all the 
benevolent and generous affections. Nor 
"should it be forgotten that in his last sickness 
"he added to these brilliant lights of charac- 
ter his testimony to the truth of the gospel 
"He gave his testimony to these awful truths 
"on which our present and eternal felicity is 
^dependent. The language of the reverend 
"gentleman who attended him in those awful 
^moments was this — "I was delighted with 
"the interview, and gratified to find Mr. 
"Grosvenor perfectly at home upon religious 
"subjects, and so well prepared." He received 
"the sacrament and died in the faith of hi? 
"Redeemer." 






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